


take back your memories (they're no good to me)

by onakissgodknows



Series: too late, expired lover [1]
Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Break Up, Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Light Angst, M/M, mildly unhealthy relationship, no idea how to tag this really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-25
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-18 23:48:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11301357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onakissgodknows/pseuds/onakissgodknows
Summary: Kris doesn’t know what it is about Bryce that always draws him back in.  Maybe it’s the familiarity – there are only a few constants in his life and Bryce is one of them. Bryce and baseball, and the two are intrinsically intertwined, so as long as Kris loves one, maybe – well. He doesn’t think he loves Bryce. Half the time he doesn’t even think he likes Bryce. When Kris leaves he always tells himself he’s done, there won’t be a next time, and yet he always ends up back here.





	take back your memories (they're no good to me)

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you're trucking along, writing the fic you intended to write, but then sometimes you hear a song you haven't really heard since high school and it inspires a fic that you never intended to write at all and it turns angstier than intended and you're left with the finished product like, welp. This is a thing I made.
> 
> The timeline is a little sketchy on this fic - I actually started writing this before I realized the Cubs are actually facing the Nationals this week, so for all intents and purposes we'll just go with this taking place while the Cubs are in D.C. this week. 
> 
> Also, I think I covered everything in my tags but if anybody thinks something else should be tagged or if I need a warning of any kind, PLEASE let me know!

It started back when they were rivals in high school – they’ve always been rivals, never teammates – teenagers who didn’t know how make sense of what they were feeling, only knew baseball and competition and making out in cars. Then Kris left for college, and Bryce got drafted and went to the minor leagues, and a couple of years later, after Bryce got called up by the Nats, Kris saw him back home over Christmas break. They made plans to catch up and ended up fucking in Bryce’s room at his parents’ house, like they were still in high school.

“Tell me what it’s like,” Kris blurted out after they’d been quiet for awhile. “Making it to the majors.”

Bryce’s eyes shone in the dim light. “It’s exactly what you think it’s like, Bryant,” he said, and pulled him down for a kiss.

Kris doesn’t know what it is about Bryce that always draws him back in. Maybe it’s the familiarity – there are only a few constants in his life and Bryce is one of them. Bryce and baseball, and the two are intrinsically intertwined, so as long as Kris loves one, maybe – well. He doesn’t think he loves Bryce. Half the time he doesn’t even think he _likes_ Bryce. When Kris leaves he always tells himself he’s done, there won’t be a next time, and yet he always ends up back here.

 _Here_ is on his stomach in a hotel bed with Bryce on top of him, his breath hot on the back of Kris’s neck while he fucks him. Bryce has one hand around Kris’s dick, the other pinning Kris’s wrist to the mattress.

“Ow!” Kris yelps as Bryce bites him hard on the shoulder, growling as he comes. Bryce ignores Kris’s exclamation, just speeds up his hand on Kris’s cock, his own dick still buried inside Kris.

“Come for me,” Bryce says against his skin, biting him in the same spot then soothing with his tongue. Kris does, shaking and pressing his face into the mattress to muffle his voice.

They stay like that for a few moments, skin on sweaty skin, until their breathing evens and Bryce pulls out and gets off of Kris.

Kris rolls onto his back, grabs a pillow, and slings it at Bryce as Bryce puts his underwear back on. Bryce makes an “oof!” noise as it hits him in the stomach and he turns to Kris, hands lifted in askance. “The hell was that for?”

Kris scowls. “Why do you always have to bite me like you’re trying to make me _bleed_?”

Bryce snorts. “Jesus, don’t be such a baby.”

Kris makes an indignant noise and points to his shoulder. “This isn’t even a hickey! You just bit me, you freak!” 

“All right!” Bryce snaps back. “God, I won’t do it again!”

“Good.” Kris folds his arms over his chest, feeling petulant and annoyed. Like, yeah, the sex is good, but is it worth this?

Bryce approaches the bed again. “You know, you can always bite me back.”

Kris can’t help smiling. “Like I never have before?”

“Mhm.” Bryce leans down and kisses Kris, parting his lips and slipping his tongue into his mouth. Kris kisses him back and traps Bryce’s lower lip between his teeth just as Bryce pulls away. Bryce grins. “There you go.”

Kris grabs the back of his head and kisses him again, sitting up to meet Bryce’s lips. Bryce hums throatily, dragging a hand down Kris’s chest.

Maybe it’s worth it.

Bryce grabs Kris’s hand and guides it to the front of his boxers. He pushes his cock against Kris’s palm. “Feel that, KB?” Bryce grins. “Give it some time and we could go for round two.”

Then again, maybe not. Kris pulls away. “C’mon, Bryce.”

“Come on what?” Bryce leans in again for a kiss, and Kris turns his face away. “What?” Bryce asks again, a little annoyed.

Kris thinks about saying what he really thinks but he doesn’t. He shrugs. “Game tomorrow. I should get some sleep.”

Bryce rolls his eyes and glances at the clock. It isn’t that late. “Yeah, okay.” He can tell when Kris is bullshitting – maybe just because he’s known Kris as long as he has - but at least he has the decency not to press the issue.  

Bryce flops back onto the bed on his stomach and tugs Kris’s arm. Kris lays down next to him and Bryce slings an arm across his chest – possessive or protective or just careless, Kris doesn’t know.

It’s moments like this Kris has no idea what to say to Bryce. The windows are open, cool summer evening air blowing gently against the curtains, and Kris can hear the sounds of the street below and the sound of Bryce’s breathing. Kris stares at the ceiling. Bryce’s eyes are on him.

“Looks like you’ll be in the All-Star Game again,” Bryce finally says, because when they don’t have anything else to talk about it always comes back to baseball.

Kris wrinkles his nose. “Still time left in the voting.”

“Don’t be stupid. Who’s gonna beat you, Arenado? Maybe if anybody in Colorado gave a fuck about their team, but they don’t.”

It’s not nice, but it’s true. Bryce is good at pointing out unpleasant truths.

“Three time All-Star Kris Bryant,” Bryce whispers in his ear. “God, if you weren’t a stud before – “

“World Series means nothing, huh?” Kris shoots back. “Even you don’t have that.”

Bryce nips his ear – lightly, so it doesn’t hurt. “Touché.”

Kris grins in spite of himself. “Still. You’ll make the All-Star Game too. How many times is that, five?”

“Yeah,” Bryce says, unconcerned, like it’s nothing. He grins. “Guess I’ll be seeing you in Miami.”

And they’re back to talk of next time. “Bryce.”

“ _What_?”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Bryce laughs. “Has this ever been? Thought we did this ‘cause it’s fun, not ‘cause it’s smart.”

“Well, yeah, but.” Kris can’t think with Bryce’s arm on him like this. He pushes him away and sits up. “Maybe we should not do this in Miami.”

“Why?” Bryce lifts himself up to rest on his elbows and curls his lip. “Is it because Rizzo will be there? God, don’t tell me it’s because of Rizzo.”

Kris scowls. “ _No_.” Rizzo isn’t likely to start in the All-Star Game, but he’ll probably be a reserve. And anyway, even if it _was_ because of Rizzo, what does Bryce care?

“Because, I mean,” Bryce goes on, “I guess you could have Rizzo tag along with us. I guess that wouldn’t be the worst thing. He just seems kind of, you know, vanilla.”

Like Kris isn’t. “It’s not about Rizzo! Geez, he doesn’t even know about us.”

“Fine, then you can ditch him in Miami and come fool around with me. If you’re doing this behind his back anyway, then – “

“Shut up!” Kris snaps, but Bryce doesn’t because he’s annoyed – more annoyed than Kris thinks he has any right to be.

Bryce leans in close. “Bet he can’t give it to you like I do. Bet he can’t make you – “

Kris shoves him away. “Dude, it’s not Rizzo! Would you fucking listen?”

Bryce rolls his eyes. “Kris. What would your mother think of the cussing?”

Kris slumps back against the pillows with a sigh. “If you don’t wanna listen, forget it, I guess. We can just go to sleep.”

Bryce picks at his thumbnail absently. “All right. I’m listening.”

“I’m just saying I think we should quit this.” Kris is suddenly very aware of the fact that he’s still naked, but he also isn’t willing to draw attention to that by standing up to get dressed. He rearranges the sheets as best he can so he feels a little less exposed.

Bryce is looking down at him, chin jutted out haughtily. “Why?” he asks.

“Because it’s stupid,” Kris says, looking again at the ceiling rather than at Bryce. “Do I need another reason? We’re just being dumb.”

“Dumb. Really.” Bryce goes back to picking at his fingernails, a careless gesture that makes him look disinterested but Kris suspects it’s a nervous habit. “Is that what you think,” Bryce says, so quiet Kris can barely hear him.

“I’m not trying to be _mean_ or anything,” Kris says. He’s not setting out to hurt Bryce, never has. But there comes a time when people have to grow up, right?

Bryce laughs again, with less humor than before. “You think you’re going to hurt my feelings?” 

In spite of himself, Kris rolls his eyes. “I changed my mind. There’s another reason.” Most of the time when he and Bryce hook up it’s pretty fun. They catch up and laugh and fuck and then sometimes watch a movie or fall asleep, though they’ve never spent the night together – one of them will wake up and leave well before morning. It’s one of those unspoken rules that established itself early on and they never did anything to change them.

Some of the time, though, he and Bryce hook up and Bryce is moody and irritable and bitter. That part isn’t fun. They still fuck but Bryce responds to everything Kris says with something sarcastic and sometimes he’s just plain mean. Bryce is really good at being mean when he wants to be. It’s not limited to Kris, either – when Bryce gets in moods like that he’s nasty to everyone.

When Bryce gets like this he and Kris usually end up fighting and Bryce storms out and then texts him an apology the next day. Kris usually lets it go, because it’s Bryce, and it doesn’t really bother him that much. Bryce knows Kris well enough that if he really did want to hurt Kris he could, and he never does.

However, lately Kris is just kind of sick of it. Bryce is in a good mood tonight – well, was until Kris griped at him about biting too hard – and Kris figures if he’s gonna end it he might as well do it now. His heart’s been out of this for a while.

Frankly, he could easily just ghost Bryce in Miami and ignore his texts during any subsequent Cubs/Nationals series. He’s being nice by telling him this to his face.

“Always so full of shit, KB,” Bryce says, still not looking at him.

Kris makes a face. “Because I know what I want?” Kris, actually, has no idea what he wants – he’s just pretty sure what he wants isn’t _this_ anymore. Isn’t Bryce.

Bryce, unfortunately, decides to call his bluff. He laughs heartily and asks, “Okay, what do you want, then?”

Kris shrugs. “None of your business.”

Bryce gets up and looks around on the floor for his clothes. He finds his jeans and steps into them, somehow making the act of getting dressed look _angry_. “So what, is this a breakup?” He has a nasty smile on his face.

“I guess you could call it that,” Kris says, a little doubtful. He isn’t sure this counts as a breakup when they aren’t really a couple. “C’mon, Bryce. You know I like being friends with you. I don’t wanna lose _that_.”

Bryce laughs again. “Man, sure sounds like every other breakup I’ve been through.”  He leans against the windowsill and crosses his arms across his bare chest. “Think you’re too good for me?”

“No.” Kris is annoyed that Bryce is trying to bait him, but what can he do?

“Good, ‘cause you’re not.” His voice is sharp. “While you were fucking around with college ball and the minor leagues I was already up here. You know I can get anybody I want.”

Kris sits up, hugging a pillow to his chest, and looks at Bryce skeptically. “Then why aren’t you?” It’s kind of nasty, but Bryce started it.

“You don’t know that I’m not,” Bryce says, his voice still sharp and his eyes intense. “Maybe I just fuck you ‘cause it’s easy.”

It’s the kind of comment that is designed to sting, but it doesn’t because Kris knows he doesn’t mean it. None of Bryce’s biting remarks hurt him unless they’re honest, and most of the time they’re empty words. Kris shrugs again. “Okay. Then if I say we’re done it shouldn’t bother you.”

Bryce rubs his palms on his thighs. “It doesn’t bother me, I just think you’re being an idiot, and that you’re a liar, and that you’re not gonna stick with this.”

Kris scowls. He shouldn’t be combative, he _knows_ it, but he can’t help it. “What do you mean?”

Bryce casually runs a hand through his thick sandy hair. “I’ll be really fucking impressed if you can make it through the All-Star break without texting me. As for you being a liar, you saying this has nothing to do with Rizzo is bullshit and you know it, but you can think that if you want.” He raises his eyebrows. “I can’t blame you, if I could get laid on a regular basis by a teammate I probably would.”

Kris shakes his head. Bryce can believe whatever he wants too, but Kris is not going to text him in Miami. He’s firm with himself on that front. He’s tried to walk away from Bryce before – never told Bryce as much, but he thinks Bryce could feel when he was thinking about it. So he supposes Bryce can’t be blamed for thinking Kris can’t stay away. “You’re making this a lot easier for me, Bryce.”

“Easier to walk away?” Bryce scoffs. “Yeah, like I said, we’ll see if it lasts. I’ll even do you a favor and won’t gloat too much when you come back.”

Bryce is very handsome, even when he looks as pissed off as he might if he struck out with the bases loaded. Maybe especially when he looks that pissed off. And yeah, he’s tempting, but Kris knows it’s better this way. Healthier. They can’t keep this dance up forever. It’s better to end it now before somebody trips.

“What’s fucked up about it, Kris,” Bryce continues, “is that you can try to walk away but I know – and _you_ know – that you’re going to come crawling back to me with those pretty baby blues, all wide-eyed and hopeful. And you and I both know I’ll be there when you do. Difference is, at least I’ll admit it.” He abruptly straightens up and snatches his t-shirt off the floor where he dropped it earlier. “Give my best to Rizzo,” he grumbles as he tugs it over his head. “I’ll see both of you at the game tomorrow. Try to put up a fight, would you? All of you have looked pretty pathetic for a bunch of defending world champions.”

That actually stings a little, because Kris knows Bryce believes that, and he also knows that Bryce would’ve kept it to himself if Kris hadn’t pissed him off. The two of them are used to trading playful insults about the teams they play for, this goes back to their Little League days, but Bryce has rarely, if ever, told Kris to his face that his team looks pathetic. Bryce is a good baseball player, and knows good baseball when he sees it – or doesn’t see it.

Kris snorts and turns his face away. Bryce approaches the bed and turns his face back to him, cupping his cheek in his hand. His expression is a little softer – barely, but it is.

Bryce leans down and kisses him, probably rougher than he would have otherwise, and ends it with a bite to Kris’s lower lip. Kris makes a disapproving noise and Bryce rubs his thumb over his lip. “And after this week,” he says, his tone bitter, “I’ll see you in Miami.” To Kris’s surprise, he gently kisses his forehead.

Kris doesn’t say anything, doesn’t have anything to say that won’t help confirm what Bryce believes. So he stays on the bed and doesn’t turn around as Bryce walks away from him.

He hears the door click shut as Bryce exits.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is from "Gives You Hell" by All-American Rejects. Thank you for reading!


End file.
